We eventually arrived at Klaustur, the nickname for Kirkjubæjarklaustur. It was almost completely clean here... no clouds of ash being thrown up by the occasional passing car or truck, so we looked for a place to stay. Luckily we were directed to a hotel that seemed to have aspirations to become a kind of golf resort, as they’d made a 10-hole course around some of the nearby hills that all seemed to resemble women’s breasts — complete with nipples on top.
There were three other couples in the whole place, which was nice. In the summer this area is popular as a jumping off point for getting onto some of the nearby glaciers, and an area called 100 Craters, the road to which wasn't opened yet.
It rained in the night and we wondered if it would help out the guys with hoses in Vík.
On to a nearby gorge, again along a gravel road. It appears out of nowhere, and one can hike along the top of it and peer down...
The gorge is only a few kilometers long, so after a short hike we’re back to the road and heading towards a glacier tongue I spied as we sped by Skógar — if the ash had indeed been washed away somewhat, then it might be possible to drive up to the glacier. First we tried a gravel road that was supposed to lead up to Mýrdalsjökull glacier, but it started to get pretty sketchy, so we turned back from that approach. The landscape was nice and bleak.
Further on I could see the glacier tongue from the main road... a dirty, icy wall in the distance just a little inland. Along yet another gravel road we got pretty close, and after a short hike we were on it... covered with dark brown sand or ash, or both, hard to tell. The glaciers push a lot of rocks and dirt along in front of them, so glaciers with dirty faces aren’t all that strange.
I got up as far as an area where some crevasses began, and where there were some funnel shaped holes down which melt water was draining. I could see some hikers emerging over a ridge, and they all had on crampons and carried poles and ropes, so I thought maybe with all these crevasses and deep holes I shouldn’t proceed much further.
We headed back towards Vík, and it had indeed been washed a bit cleaner. The wind seemed to have changed direction, and the ash cloud appeared to be moving more directly south over the sea, and maybe even a little west. We heard soon afterwards that Reykjavík airport had been closed, again, and maybe this wind change was the reason. Our NY friends wouldn't be getting in for Cindy’s opening.
There was a little ash dust coming up from passing vehicles, but not so much in the air now. As we passed under the cloud it began to rain — black gray brown dirty rain, as if someone were throwing mud at the windshield. The more it rained the dirtier the car got.
Clear sky ahead. We headed back to Reykjavík.
Needless to say the tourism industry has been hit hard. The guy we rented our car from was sitting around the office with his mates listening to music on their computers.
Cindy had her opening and loads of people turned out — I ran into Einar, former Sugarcube who had brought me here for a concert in the mid-’90s. We played at a movie theater, which, as it turns out, is better than a lot of the venues where some acts play. Now Einar has other projects, among them Ghostigital, with whom I am slated to collaborate on a song. The new Icelandic minister of culture, Katrín Jakobsdóttir, opened the show. Here’s her official government portrait:
[Source]
